December 4/5: Tourist time and red eye to Nairobi

Clive

Saturday was our last day in South Africa, and our driver, Clive, served as our tour guide. On the docket: the Apartheid museum and Soweto, the scene of much of the violent uprising to end a segregated South Africa.

Side note: I started my regiment of Malaria pills on Friday. We’ve all been sharing experiences with these pills, ranging from non-exist to horrific. I didn’t share with the group the worst side effect I had, which were some pretty colorful dreams Friday night, involving the pope and some wicked bee stings. I had heard this was common, but that’s just plain creepy.

Downtown Joburg

We started the day with a tour of Johannesburg. It’s amazing how the neighborhoods can range from affluent to slums in the blink of an eye. Much of the white population lives in beautiful, sprawling compounds surrounded by ten-foot fences topped with volts of electricity. 

But turn a corner and you’re in vastly different downtown Joburg. Throngs of people crowd the streets and sidewalks play host to stands selling everything from toilet paper to fruits and vegetables to beauty salons. It was crowded and run down. Clive told us that many of the high rises are empty, and those that were occupied by families collected very little rent.

I can’t rave enough about the Apartheid museum. Many liken it to the Holocaust museum, and I can see the similarities, because it’s a very emotional experience. I was alive when Apartheid gripped this country. In fact, I was old enough to understand what was going on. Men and women just a few years older than me were standing up to a brutal regime; imprisoned, tortured or killed. And I was busy worrying about the Sadie Hawkins dance. It’s not like I could have joined in the fight, but it certainly put life into perspective.

For almost a decade, many lost families members and wondered where they would sleep at night. It’s pretty powerful ending to see the Bill of Rights and ballots from the first free election in 1994. It’s worth noting that their Bill of Rights includes freedom from discrimination based on handicap or sexual orientation.

Small shanty town outside Soweto

We had lunch one of the oldest restaurants in Soweto, Waldi’s. It was buffet style and reminded me very much of my favorite soul food place in D.C. The food was fantastic, and large, boisterous families surrounded us.  We shopped at a market downtown Soweto before we left. Buckle up Mason and Teichroew families… There will be a theme in my Christmas gift-giving this year.

During the rest of our tour of Soweto, some kids followed us down the street, asking for sweets or dollars, and singing their national anthem. It’s hard to turn away from a shoeless child hugging your legs, even if they are just adorable little shysters.

I’m thankful for the couple of hours break to rest and pack. We had a late check out of the hotel and leave for the airport at 9 p.m. Our flight left Johannesburg for Nairobi at 12:50 a.m. I’m not sure if I’ve discussed “highs and lows” yet. Emily suggested we do this every night, beginning on one of our first in the country. For me, it’s a throw back to the Kappa Kappa Gamma days, and it’s a fantastic way to discuss the events of the day. Each of us went through our daily highs and lows at the airport, which helped mark the end of one day ad the beginning of the next, even though we weren’t heading into a night of sleep.

I slept about 20 minutes on the plane. Wonderful.

We landed in Kenya just as the sun was rising. I wish we had more time to see Nairobi, so that my only impression of it wasn’t just the airport. They say they are in the middle of major re-construction, but the conditions were just plain unsafe. They have torn down the interior of many retail shops, but left the rubble, including broken glass, right next to gates. At one point, I saw a child playing in conditions like this:

Our second flight was much longer than we thought it would be; just over five hours. Everyone was excited about it: 

Oh well.. Fast forward seven or eight hours, and I couldn’t be happier. Sitting by the pool at our hotel in Ghana, in the sun, with free wifi. Ahhhh….. 

December 3: Caterpillars taste bad

I won’t be able to write much today; which is probably a reprieve for all of you because I wrote so much tomorrow. I have to apologize for how long each of my entries will likely be. I am attempting to empty my brain at the end of each day. Today, my brain is just too tired.

Here’s a rundown: I was late to the bus because I burned my arm on the iron (at least my dress wasn't wrinkled). It's actually pretty bad (see below)! 

We started the day at the U.S. Embassy in Pretoria, with a briefing and media avail. But don’t worry members of the University of Minnesota press team! I excused myself from commenting on wide-sweeping matters of U.S. foreign policy. I didn’t think anyone would want my personal thoughts on Wikileaks. We ate lunch at the U.S. Consulate, and took a short break for dinner.

Ray Tripp from the embassy set us up for dinner and show at the Market Theatre in Joburg. Highlight of dinner: eating a caterpillar. It was awful, and I think I turned green, but I did it. It tasted like jello with litte bones in it, but it was spicy. I went first, and was feeling pretty good about myself when Ryan couldn’t choke it down, but was quickly knocked off my high horse when Peter swallowed it easily.

We saw a show called Songs of Migration. It was based on the generations of immigrants who have come to South Africa. It was all music and sung in many different languages, but easy enough to follow. The music is so beautiful, it was really moving.

After the show, we were talking to a few people in the audience, and one person who was introduced to Ryan said, “You’re from Tennessee? My great-grandmother was a slave in Tennessee.” Wow. The way she said it wasn’t accusatory or confrontational in tone; she was genuinely connecting with him. They talked for a while, then went their separate ways, both with smiles on their faces. I can’t put my finger on the cultural difference here yet, but it seems like African culture is to find similarities in everyone you meet. This woman may have brought up slavery because it was a shared experience.

Must sign off now; have 15 channels of soccer to watch before bed. 

December 2: I get it, Sarah Palin is popular

I woke up early this morning, worried because my iPhone didn’t change time zones. I actually feel guilty though, because I’m not suffering jet lag, and many in the group are. At least I wasn't up at 4. 

We started the day at Idasa, a public interest organization with a continent-wide focus toward sustainable democracy. We heard from people who ran programs in economic development and political development at the local level.

We covered a broad range of their programs, giving us an excellent overview of the current political situation. One woman we talked to deals with issues of gender on the continent. Oddly enough, even in these nascent democracies, women’s participation in politics isn’t that different from ours. She said they are now focusing on recruiting good quality candidates, over just a sheer number of women. This reminded me of research the Humphrey Institute’s Center on Women and Public Policy recently talked about, and I brought this up to the group: our trends aren’t so different. I also asked if there were positive female role models in the nation, like President Ellen Sirleaf-Johnson of Liberia. She was our guest at the U last year and has an inspiring story for young aspiring political women. They said there were many role models, but one woman was quick to note that in America we elected an African-American president before a woman. Touche.

That conversation was my high for the day, because it really made me think more critically about women’s participation in our own political process. I’m proud that we are a country of voters that don’t just vote on gender. I’m sure this isn’t true for each individual, but if, as a group, we vote solely based on who we might see as the best candidate, it’s almost like we don’t see gender at all. In the short run, this may yield fewer women in numbers, but isn’t the ultimate goal not to see gender at all? Okay, off my soapbox. Bra = burned.

At the end of the Idasa meeting, our leader for the day asked their group if they have any questions for us. I’m not sure how surprised I was that they asked, “Why is Glen Back so popular?” Hmmm…. Good question. Follow up was “Tell me about the Tea Party movement and Sarah Palin.” The rest of the group laughed when these questions were asked, probably because it’s a very straight forward question. Ryan Haynes, a Republican colleague and member of the TN State Assembly had a fantastic answer (that I’m adding to my message document for future use). He said that the Tea Party movement arose because of a large number of people who are upset with the direction their government was headed, and rightfully so. This group, however, has not yet found one singular leader to accurately represent their positions. I also added the media’s role in portraying this movement: There could be ten “normal” people sitting around, upset that their taxes are too high, but if there is one guy in the room with an eagle on his t-shirt and a sign that misspelled “constitution,” CNN will only cover him. I may not consider myself a part of the Tea Party movement, but I thought Ryan’s assessment was a fair one.

We ate lunch at a beautiful restaurant outside, next to a nature preserve. Everyone in the group is willing to try local fare, so three tried “venison.” Not the same meaning as post-hunting season in MN. This meat actually comes from an antelope-like creature. I only bring this up because one of them ran by our table while we were eating. Major guilt trip for those who were enjoying this creature’s brother for lunch.

Next, we drove about two hours to a town called Secunda, to meet with the local municipal leaders. Here, I hit a wall of tired. The discussion seemed really interesting, but I struggled to focus. One item of note: A big part of preparing for the trip was buying gifts from home to give to local leaders. Emily scored in Secunda (see photo).

Everyone loves the Yankees! (probably the only time I will ever be pro-Yankee)

Dinner at Moyo - Seven vegetable cous cous

Sheila, a South African working for the U.S. Embassy in Joburg and our escort for many meetings, suggested we eat at Moyo, a restaurant that serves very traditional African food, music and face painting. I think this setting is where the group will get to know each other best, over good wine, somewhat unrecognizable food, and the collective experience of being totally out of our element. 

Ryan, Emily and Dale at Moyo

November 30/ December 1: An onslaught of information and waking up crabby in Senegal

We all met each other for dinner downtown on Monday night. I didn’t get a chance to talk with everyone, but I’m so glad we had an informal setting to get to know each other. The delegation seems like a great mix of people from across the county. It consists of seven people: three Republicans, two Democrats and one independent. Two state legislators, two campaign and government staffers, one employee of Boeing, and me. Our escort is an alum of the program, and faculty member from DePaul University in Chicago.

On Tuesday, we started at the ACYPL offices with a conference call with the folks from the embassies, and an overview of our itinerary from ACYPL staff. And because Minnesota is one big small town, I ran into Chas Anderson (ACYPL alumna) at their offices. She recently escorted a group to Vietnam. Note to self: become lifetime member of the organization immediately upon return. Escort possibilities are very enticing.

Our cohort at the Ghana Embassy

After ACYPL, we were off to meet with the Ghanaian and South African ambassadors. We actually shared an elevator with the South African ambassador without knowing it was him. He was so down to Earth, joking with us. When we got to the meeting room, he formally introduced himself and he launched into very intimate stories of his country, including his time in jail during Apartheid. Linda Rotunno (ACYPL) also shared very personal stories about South Africa, and I have a sense this will be the key to understanding its history and current struggles. 

In our final meeting of the day, we visited the State Department to be briefed by many officials who work in Africa. Then it was off to Dulles for our “direct” flight to Johannesburg.

What followed was 19 hours of confusion, half sleep, and bad movies. As it turns out, the plane had a stop over for fuel in Senegal. I had just fallen asleep when we started to land, and I woke up cranky when the flight attendant tore the blankets from my lap. I felt like a child who had just fallen asleep in the car, only to have the warm cocoon of sleep ripped from me, feeling disoriented and annoyed.

When we took off again, I found the perfect recipe for sleep: Eat, Pray, Love. I’d like to thank Julia Roberts for helping me find a blissful sleep state almost immediately.

Two representatives of the Embassy met us at the airport and took us by van to our (swank) hotel in Sandton, a (very safe) suburb of Joburg. We were briefed about our schedule in country, and ate dinner in the hotel. Tomorrow we start our adventure. For now, it’s BBC news and sleep! 

Worst blog post ever

I have to apologize, but this will be the worst blog post ever. I have safely landed in South Africa, and the group is fantastic! But I am exhausted and the Internet connection isn't great. It’s strange how time flies when you have no idea what day it is. 

I promise to post more in the morning. In the mean time, this our lunch guest today. He was a surprise, but a fantastic conversationalist.